True Heritage
by GlarthirSkingrad
Summary: AU: The Lord Stark of Winterfell has just died, which leaves his eldest daughter Arya to believe she is going to be the new ruler in the North, while his wife's daughter from a former marriage, Sansa, weighs her limited opportunities in life: Not being a true Stark, she has to make her own fortune.
1. The Funeral

_**Author's note:** This story is based on the original characters from Game of Thrones, but I have altered a few key facts. It takes place in an alternate universe but still in Westeros. Enjoy!_

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><p>The bonfire was lighted, and the citizens of Winterfell were all assembling outside the city walls to say a final goodbye to their ruler, Lord Ned Stark. The weather was unforgiving as usual, but the people from the North were accustomed to the cold. No snow was falling today though, but the sky was dark and covered in grey, heavy clouds. From the burial place outside the city, Winterfell looked quite monstrous and gothic with the tall walls made from stone. The ravens were circling above the city, either looking after it or spying on it. The colour of the grass was different shades of brown after the hard frost and snow had been tormenting it for the last couple of months, and the trees had lost their leaves long ago.<p>

"All hail the deceased Lord Ned Stark of Winterfell, ruler and warden of the North. We will never forget the work he has done for us. He spent his life protecting and serving our realm, and now he has found peace. May the Gods have mercy on him", the minister Zakeus called. He was standing in front of the great bonfire, on which Lord Stark was lying. He was dressed in his ruler's clothes with his hands on his chest, and his facial expression made him look like the proud and strong ruler, he had been. The priest kept talking about Lord Stark's life before lighting the fire. The flames quickly consumed the wood in the cold and soon the flames were dancing around the dead lord, consuming his flesh.

All of Winterfell participated in the ceremony, because Lord Stark had been very popular and loved. He had secured peace in the North and made the capital rich and well-fed.

Closest to the bonfire was Lord Stark's widow, Lady Cersei Stark, formerly Cersei Hastings. She was in mourning and her dark hood was covering most of her face to conceal her tears and swollen face. Their marriage had been arranged, but happy. Her hair was blonde with a hint of grey and her age around 40. She looked older than she was, but the time since her husband's passing had taken its toll on her. She was no small woman, but she was lean and muscular. The time in the North had made her like this. The life here was sometimes rough, and she had not been used to it in the beginning when Lord Stark had brought her here with her infant daughter, Sansa. Cersei had been wed to Lord Ludwig Hastings from Southguard, but shortly after their marriage, he was killed in battle and the Hasting empire had been scattered all over. Ned Stark had known her for years and loved her just as long, so he gladly brought her and her daughter to Winterfell.

Now Cersei was mourning her second husband, and wiping away the tears, she tried to make her face presentable. Her deep blue eyes were still magnetic and they were so powerful that you hardly noticed her big nose and narrow and tiny lips, which were almost without colour. Her skin was pale like the rest of the people in the North, but she had not been born this way. The time living in the cold had changed the colour of her face, but it suited the rest of her appearance.

She looked like she was barely able to stand, but her son was steadying her. He was a tall boy with a strong body like most northern boys. His name was Joffrey and he was 16 years old, eldest living son of Lord and Lady Stark. His hair was a bit curly, blonde and too long. He had a hard face and unfriendly features. His eyes were pointy and alert, his nose big like his mother's and his lips dark red. He never smiled and mostly preferred being alone, either practising with his sword or studying the ancient books. He had no real friends, only a couple of squires to help him and protect him.

"Don't cry like that, Myrcella. Father would not have wanted you to cry", a girl standing beside Lady Stark said to a little girl with golden curls. She was barely ten years old and clutching a doll inside her embrace. She was pretty, with eyes like her mother, the Lady Stark, a round face and childish features. She was wearing a blue dress even though she was attending a funeral. Her mother had told her not to wear it, but the little girl had insisted since it was a gift from her father.

The rest of the Stark family looked at the girl, who had said the words, but she didn't seem to mind. She just stared into the flames, biting her lip.

"Arya, she is only a child. You would have cried too if you were as young as she is", another girl said, looking at the angry girl with sorrow in her eyes. Arya moved her head and looked at her with a hard expression on her face:

"No, Sansa. I doubt that", she said and turned her head away again.

"It's father's funeral, for God's sake. People are allowed to cry at a funeral", Sansa responded. Arya sighed heavily and turned her face towards Sansa again.

"It's my father", she said harshly.

Sansa knew that – nobody let her forget it. Lord Stark was not her real father, but he had been like one to her all her life. She loved him dearly and missed him as much as her siblings. Most of the time, she did not think about her heritage and Winterfell was home to her. She knew she wasn't a real Stark, but it never really bothered her. She had been living all her life here in the North, getting fairly along with her brothers and sisters but she did not have a warrior's mind like her father or Joffrey and Arya.

She had always liked school and was a clever student, knowing a lot about agriculture. That had come in handy as she was helping out planning how to make the most of the fields. She enjoyed being outside and spent most of her time in the fields around the crops and plants. Lord Stark had discovered her talent early, and he was happy to see her make use of her head. He had loved her like his own daughter and had adored her easy and calm personality. She had a mild temper and never acted out – in contrast to her siblings. The twins, Martin and Arya, had been the worst. Before they were able to walk, they were already planning how to conquer all of Westeros to make Winterfell the mightiest city in the world. They had wanted to be kings of the entire realm, and this desire had not vanished as they grew older. They had aggressive spirits and no concern for others, who were standing in their way. They had been best friends, and mostly Arya was the one leading the way. Martin had been a sweet boy most of the time, but his friendship with his twin sister had coloured his view of life. When he died at the age of 11, the entire North had been in mourning for eight days, as he was the born heir to Winterfell.

Sansa had liked Martin and she was still suffering from nightmares about his death. Sansa did not look like her siblings that much. Joffrey, Martin and Arya had the bodies of the northerners with green eyes like their father, and their appearance made them look like they were small, angry warriors. Sansa was a redhead, and her shoulder-long hair was braided down the back of her head and decorated with a light blue ribbon and a jewel. Her eyes were blue like her mother's, and her skin was pale with pretty features.

"Don't forget how you wept at Martin's funeral", Joffrey leaned in and whispered into Arya's ear. Her eyes were instantly on fire and she regarded her brother with a look of hatred. Her brother just smiled a vicious smile and laughed silently. Their mother gave him a small shove, but only to make him participate in the funeral mourning, not because she was mad at him. She never was – to Arya's great frustration.

Sansa watched how her sister was burning from the inside with fury, and she saw how she clenched her fists ready to punch Joffrey. Her mother gave her an angry and disapproving look, which only made her clench her fists even harder. Arya looked into the fire one last time before taking her leave. She walked out on the funeral and down to the stony road called The Long Road, which led away from Winterfell. She turned around and looked at the big city she called home. The fire was burning outside the city walls, and from this distance it was easier for her to watch. She had been close to her father, and he had taught her everything he knew about warfare and how to rule a realm. Numerous times he had told her what a great leader she would make when she grew up, and this had always led her to believe that she was going to be her father's successor. She had always liked the idea of her becoming the ruler of Winterfell, and after Martin's death she was first in line to take the role as ruler. Martin had been born before her, so he had been the rightful heir and before his death, she had never questioned that. It was a custom, and she had never thought of being the ruler herself then.

Now, however, both her five-minute older brother and her father were dead, and she was the eldest Stark child. Sansa was older than her, but not being a real daughter to Lord Stark, she had no claim to be the ruler, and it also seemed to suit her just fine. She had no ambition of ruling anything related to wars and politics. Arya had often wondered what Sansa really wanted in life. They had never been close, and Sansa seldom told people about her thoughts and dreams. However, Arya did know that Sansa was good at spinning the realm's fields into gold, making even the most delicate seeds grow in the frosty soil. Thereby, she served her land well, and Arya appreciated that now that she was about to take the position of protector of Winterfell herself.

Out on The King's Road outside Winterfell, the wind was relentless, and Arya felt cold standing still, looking at the dying fire. The citizens were now singing songs to praise her father, but she did not want to join them. She did not want to be close to Joffrey or to face the rest of her family after Joffrey had humiliated her. She hated that boy – he was nothing like Martin.

She stayed out a bit longer, patrolling The King's Road while holding on to her sword. The darkness was falling, and here in the North it fell quickly. The cold wind had made her cover herself in her fragile and thin funeral dress that was not made for a warrior, but her mother had made her wear it. Her maidens had combed her light brown hair and curled it, but as soon as she was out of sight, she put it up so it did not bother her face. She felt uncomfortable in the dress, but having her sword with her made her feel more at ease. She pressed the grip of the sword against the palm of her hand before heading home to attend the funeral feast. During the feast, the new ruler of Winterfell would be proclaimed. She smiled at the thought and felt a bit excited. All of her life had led to this event. Being the ruler of the North was what she was born to do.


	2. The Crowning

Arya tried not to seem too excited when she returned to Winterfell. The great city gates were heavily guarded, but the guards bent down to greet Arya, as she entered the city. Her father had taught her to be respectful and kind to the common people, so she gave them a royal nod and a modest smile and walked into the big castle, where the Stark family lived.

Sansa was already in her room getting ready for the feast. She felt sad and did not really understand why a feast was appropriate so shortly after burying their lord and ruler. Sansa cared little for politics and warfare, but she understood that it was important to have a solid army and a strong ruler. She had never imagined herself being a part of the council or to have her say in how to defend Winterfell and the rest of the North. She wanted a different life, but did not yet know how.

Of course there was Loras too. The young man wanting to be a part of the Lord's Guard. As Sansa was brushing and braiding Myrcella's hair for tonight's feast, she was thinking about Loras. He was young and handsome with blond hair, a mild face and smiling eyes. He had a good soul and worked hard too. He came from a struggling family, but Lord Stark had taken the family in and helped them get back on their feet. Loras' father used to be a blacksmith and his mother was one of Lady Cersei's maids. He had four siblings, all younger, who idolized their older brother.

"Ouch", Myrcella suddenly cried, and Sansa woke up. She had accidentally pulled her sister's hair while braiding it. Her sister bruised easily and was always a bit fragile. Sansa wondered how this girl could possibly be a girl of the North? Maybe it was their mother's blood shining through. Lady Cersei had been living closer to the border to the South in Dorne, living on agriculture and fishing. Their capital had been Sunspear, but after heavy fights, the city was extinct and the people scattered everywhere.

"Sorry, honey", Sansa apologized, and her sister smiled while looking at her new dress.

"I want to look pretty tonight", Myrcella said, hugging the dress. She was like a doll when it came to appearance and clothing. It was all she cared about, but her family let her – she was only a child, and her mother actually liked that she was like that – all girly and pretty like a real lady or maybe even a queen one day. Lady Cersei had three daughters, but she had no hope for her eldest, Sansa, who was not a trueborn. As good-looking as she was, she never had a chance to be wed to a powerful man from a wealthy and powerful House. Lady Cersei regretted this, but she was not able to change facts. Her other daughter, Arya, was a disaster to her. Under the masculine exterior with her sword and armour, there was a sweet and feminine face that she never showed, and Lady Cersei was unable to understand why Arya was fighting her nature. She was a woman and supposed to act accordingly. Every time Lord Stark had let her be a part of the strategy meetings and warfare sessions she had urged him not to, but the Lord had laughed since he liked their daughter a lot. He especially loved her attitude and clever mind when it came to warfare. Lady Cersei couldn't count all the times she had been infuriated when her husband had told Arya what a great leader she would make. He was supposed to tell that to his son Joffrey and not his daughter.

"I think mother will appreciate that", Sansa answered and put the small bows made from ribbons into her sister's hair. She already looked like a lady.

"It is not for mother", Myrcella said, jumping off from the chair and putting her dress on. Sansa helped her bind it.

"It is for sir Loras", Myrcella continued and smiled to the mirror in front of her. Behind her, Sansa froze for a second. She knew that Loras was handsome, but not that her own sister liked him. Her insecurities came back, telling her that she did not stand a chance next to a trueborn Stark. Not even her doll of a sister aged 10.

"Really? I don't think he is a "sir" yet", Sansa then said, making the final adjustments to Myrcella's dress.

"I don't care. He will be. Once he is older, he will join the Lord's Guard and protect Joffrey", Myrcella said while playing with her curls.

"What makes you think that Joffrey will be the new ruler?", Sansa just asked. Sansa had always assumed that Arya would be crowned the new ruler of Winterfell during the feast. She was the oldest and best fitted for being a leader.

Myrcella turned around and almost rolled her eyes at her sister.

"Because he is a boy".

Sansa tasted her words.

"I know, but Arya is older. Women rule too some places, you know".

"Maybe, but not here. I heard mother and Joffrey talking about his crowning", Myrcella answered and soon lost interest in the topic.

"But he is unkind and inexperienced. All he cares about is power. He can't be the new ruler", Sansa then said, feeling upset by the news.

"I don't know. I guess all rulers are evil sometimes", Myrcella then said, tired of the conversation and went to the door. "Are you coming?". She was impatient to enter the dining hall to find Loras.

Sansa got up and joined her.

"Father was not evil", she said to herself, thinking about the man she had always called father.

Arya had changed into more comfortable clothing to join the feast. She wanted to look like the leader she was about to be appointed as. She walked slowly down the stairs next to the cold walls that were lit up by burning torches. In the dining hall, she found a long table with another table attached at the end, pointing the other way. It was the table for the Stark family and their closest counsellors. All the important people from Winterfell attended the feast. Arya arrived late so she could watch her new people. The mere thought made the hairs stand up on top of her head. In the middle of the Stark table, she saw her two sisters sitting down next to each other. Myrcella looked like a real princess in her pink dress, and she surely acted like she was a princess. Next to Myrcella was Sansa, impatiently looking for someone in the crowd. Arya chuckled to herself and easily guessed that Sansa was looking for Loras. Even though she tried to hide it, Arya knew that Sansa and Loras liked each other a lot, she just did not have the heart to tell her that it was never going to happen. Sansa was a dreamer, who lived in her own world most of the time, and because of that, she had never understood that highborn women or women in highborn families don't marry for love. They marry for alliances and connections. That was why Arya never wanted to get married, and of course she did not have to now. She smiled again and let Sansa live her innocent romance.

The servants and members of the council bowed for her as she walked past them. She smiled to them and gave another smile to sir Jorah, who had been her father's most trusted soldier. He was also a part of the council and second in command. Numerous times, sir Jorah had educated her in warfare and strategies, and he liked her a lot. She knew that most of her father's men liked her and valued her skills in warfare, combat, making of alliances and leadership.

She walked up to her table and gave her mother and brother a short nod. They looked at her the same way in a mixture of distrust, disapproval and anger. She ignored them as usual. She had lost an important ally in her father, but she responded the way he had taught her: not to weep for the lost but to put on a brave face and keep moving forward. There would always be new allies to find.

The feast began and several toasts were made in the honour of the deceased Lord Ned Stark. Stories about him were told, and where everybody else were laughing to celebrate him, both Sansa and Arya felt uneasy and uncomfortable. They were both missing him in their own way.

"Now, dear people of Winterfell", Lady Cersei then called out. She got up and looked out over the crowd. She was wearing black clothes to show her mourning, but it was a beautiful dress made from silk. It was made from the thickest silk to keep warm in the North, but it was low-cut with long sleeves. The low cut pattern was made decently with a delicate piece of lace covering the upper part of her bosom. She was wearing her long hair up under a hat with small, dark feathers from ravens.

"Today we will mourn the Lord of Winterfell, my beloved husband, who gave his life to protect the North", she continued, and everybody started cheering. She put her hand up to silence the crowd.

"But it is also time to crown the new ruler of Winterfell", she said. She smiled, which made Arya nervous. She looked at her brother. He was smiling too with a discomforting smile. He looked satisfied with himself and utterly happy. Arya's smile froze as she looked up at her mother again.

"And of course our new ruler and Lord will be no other than my son, son of Lord Ned Stark, Joffrey Stark".

Joffrey rose from his chair to accept the people's love, and people were also clapping and cheering. Not loud, but still. Arya on the other hand needed a couple of moments to let her mother's words sink in: Joffrey was the new ruler, not her, as she was supposed to be.

As the people stopped cheering, Joffrey began to speak.

"Thank you, dear citizens of Winterfell. I know my father is a tough man to follow, but I will try my best. With the guidance from his council, which is now my council, I believe I will be in safe hands, and so will you. My father was a modest man, and I respect that. His purpose was to defend the North, not to expand it, but my reign will be different", Joffrey almost shouted. He waited for people to cheer him on before clearing his throat.

"I, Joffrey Stark, Lord of Winterfell, will do better than my father. My reign will make Winterfell bigger and more powerful, and everybody in Westeros will come to fear Winterfell. We will rule Westeros in a short time, I promise you that", he shouted. He had expected to receive plenty of applause, but for a moment people were just staring at him. They all thought the same: Winterfell had never been wealthier or better, and nobody wanted to jeopardize that. The northerners wanted peace, and from what they were now hearing, the new ruler would not bring them peace. He would bring them war. Then they started applauding him, and he never noticed their hesitation.

Arya kept the shock inside her for the rest of the feast. When it ended, Joffrey got up before she did. He looked at her with an evil smile.

"Surprised?", he then asked and grinned. Their mother got up behind him and smiled that deceiving smile too.

"You can't rule anything", Arya said with a cold voice. She was infuriated but was hiding it.

"I can. And I will", Joffrey then said and made a mocking bow in front of her.

"And _you_ let this happen. You know I am the best leader to rule Winterfell", Arya said to her mother.

"No, you are not. You are a woman and have no claim to the power", she said in an ice cold voice that sent shivers down Arya's spine. She could not believe this was happening. She had always known that her mother disliked her, but not that she hated her like this and tried to ignore her true qualities.

"Father told me that I would make a great ruler. He wanted me to rule", Arya kept arguing, even though she knew her efforts were in vain.

Lady Cersei insulted her daughter by almost yawning in front of her. "You father is dead, and you were never meant to rule", she then said and looked directly into Arya's eyes. Her eyes were hateful and malicious. It was easy for Arya to notice.

"You still hate me for what happened back then with Sansa, don't you? And you let that cloud your judgement", Arya then said, recalling the past. Her mother looked scornfully at her, and for a moment it seemed as though she was about to confess.

"No, I don't. I'm being sensible and rational", she said and started to walk away, before turning around.

"But yes, I haven't forgotten that day and what you did, you evil, hateful creature. If it hadn't been for your father, I would have married you off years ago", she said and walked away, leaving only the sound of her heels slamming into the ground behind her.

Joffrey laughed and gloated in his sister's misfortune.

"You know what? Now I have the power to marry you to some despicable nobody far away from here, where you can do nothing but obey his commands. You remember lord Frey?", he said, laughing to himself. He was obviously enjoying himself and his new power.

Arya just stared as he left too, still laughing. She was almost trembling as she realized what horrible position she was in now. Her hands were tied, and her well-being in the hands of people who wanted to see her suffer. The trembling got worse when she thought of lord Frey. He had been one of her father's bannermen, but he had cut him loose when he found out that he was a nasty wife-beater, who took many wives only to torture and abuse them.

She felt worse and worse and sank into deeper despair, but she was still in the hall, so she had to keep her cool. As she was about to leave, sir Jorah came to her with a sad look in his eyes.

"I know", he said, giving her arm a squeeze, "We all expected you to take your father's place. We all stand behind you, you have to know that", he said. She managed a smile and thanked him, before heading to her room.

On her way, she bumped into her sister Sansa. Sansa was as bewildered as she was. Arya and Sansa didn't exactly get along very well, but they had no disregard for each other either.

"I did not see that coming", Sansa then said in a quiet voice. There was an easily detected sadness in her tone.

"No, me neither", Arya responded, looking away from Sansa. After her mother reminded her of what happened years ago between her and Sansa, it was hard for Arya to look at Sansa. It had been her fault, and one moment of misery and hatred had turned her into a monster. She knew that, but she had only been eleven years old at the time.

"You are going to be fine", Sansa then tried to comfort her. Arya looked unkindly at her sister.

"If I were you, I would convince that Loras of yours to elope. Otherwise your fate will be as cruel as mine", she then said and rushed away.


	3. Making Allies

When Sansa was finally ready for bed, she was unable to sleep. Arya's words kept repeating inside her head. She could only guess what Arya had meant, but her gut feeling wasn't optimistic. As time passed, her feeling about it got worse and worse.

She lay in her bed, surrounded by the light from the candles. Like the Stark children, she had her own room where she was able to retire and relax in her own world. The walls were made from stones in different shades of grey and black like the rest of the castle. She had decorated her room nicely with paintings on the walls and flowers on the table, when she was able to grow any. The cold climate of the North left only small chances of making flowers grow, but Sansa had a green thumb. She smiled as she thought that this probably came from her Hastings roots. The House of Hastings had been known for their abilities in agriculture, and she had this ability too. It was in her blood, and she was happy about that. Maybe she was unable to ever know her heritage, but at least their blood was in her blood too.

Sansa blew out the last candles to go to sleep, but still she found no rest. _"If I were you, I would convince that Loras of yours to elope. Otherwise your fate will be as cruel as mine",_ she recalled Arya's words from earlier. She knew that Arya was devastated by Joffrey' crowning, but there had been a sense of pure fear in Arya's eyes when she had said it. Sansa knew that Joffrey did not exactly like her either, but she had always stayed out of his way. She had no reason to believe that he would hurt her. Arya maybe, but not her.

Sansa got her answer a couple of days later, when all the council members and important people of Winterfell were summoned to the Great Hall. Her mother had told her earlier to be ready too, so anxiously she approached the grand table – the same one from the crowning – where Joffrey was now sitting next to their mother. He was smiling his uncomfortable and disturbing smile, which made her alert. Their mother was clearly admiring her son, and her pride could light up the whole room.

Sansa approached her brother and made a curtsey in front of him. Her mother had told her to do this in public now that he was the Lord of Winterfell. Sansa felt a bit humiliated by this gesture, and from the look on Joffrey' face, the feeling was not imaginary.

"Kiss my hand, sweet sister", he said and gave her his hand. She felt uncomfortable but did it.

"I bring good news to you", he continued and smiled. It was obvious how happy with himself he was.

Sansa sat down on her chair next to Myrcella, who was already there. She did not seem to understand what happened, and worse – she did not seem to care. For her it did not matter if Joffrey or Arya ruled, as long as she was able to dream her princess-dreams and practice her dancing. Arya on the other hand looked worried. More worried than usual. She was sitting on the other side of their mother looking grave and unhappy. She did not say a word and did not intend to. Sansa would not have been surprised if Arya had left Winterfell during the night after Joffrey was crowned. As far as she could tell, there was nothing here for Arya anymore. No hopes, no nothing. Actually, it made her sad.

"You are assembled here today, dear people of Winterfell", Joffrey then began his speech. People were cheering him on, but when he raised his hand, they went silent.

"On the day of my crowning, I promised you more power in Westeros, and I did not lie. I tell you now, I want the throne. I want to be King of the entire Realm for you. For Winterfell", he shouted. Like at the crowning, people were silent in shock before applauding him. The council members either looked greedily at him or away in shame. Most of them did not want this war that Joffrey was about to start. They wanted peace.

"I know what you think – it is impossible. But it is not. Together with my council I have made a safe strategy, but I will not lie to you. There will be losses. Casualties. But they will be made for Winterfell, for you. Us! We need allies, and our bannermen from south and north will come. Today I have invited House Bolton to join us. They have more than 100.000 soldiers ready to fight for us, and my father had a great relationship with the Lord Roose Bolton. When he arrives, we will take the first step towards the real power. Trust me, Winterfell will again be the strongest and most feared House in Westeros", Joffrey shouted and held up his sceptre. The young men cheered loudly, vividly impressed with their new leader's promises. Sansa just sat back in her chair. She did not want war. She wanted Loras and feared that he would be fighting in the war.

After the meeting, Joffrey went to his Lord's quarters to plan the visit from House Bolton. He had had the cabinet makers turn his father's chair into a real throne covered in red velvet, and he took his place on it. He had never enjoyed himself so much before.

"Are you sure that Lord Bolton will help us?", Cersei Stark asked her son. She was covered in a dark blue dress made for working. It was not made from silk but from cotton and made her look like a farmer's wife.

Joffrey got very comfortable in his chair and looked confidently at the map of Westeros in front of him. He had drawn a big circle around King's Landing.

"Of course he will. I know he will have terms, but we can manage", he answered and smiled to himself. It made his mother alert.

"What kind of terms?", she asked and feared the worst.

"His wife is dead. He will want a new one. You have two trueborn daughters, and a marriage to one of them will make his family related to the future king. He is a greedy man who craves power and influence. He will take this offer. I have proposed it to him in my letter, and since he is already on the move, I guess he accepts", Joffrey explained, not without a malicious gloating look.

Lady Cersei stared at him in disbelief: "What have you done?".

Joffrey laughed, got on his feet and walked towards his mother.

"I have offered him one of your daughters in exchange for his men. It is a small price, really". His narrow and deep eyes were full of a victorious rush.

"Which one? You can't take Myrcella from me. She is just a child, for God's sake", Cersei almost shouted, but her voice was weak and loaded with anxiousness.

"Oh no, of course not. Myrcella is a sweet obedient girl. Not her", Joffrey laughed and looked at his mother waiting for her to understand. Oddly, she did not respond with joy.

"You gave him Arya?" Her expression was grave and hesitating.

"Yes, I did. I thought you would be happy. It is a perfect solution. Lord Bolton gets a future princess, and we get Arya out of our way. When he marries her, she will be locked away in some tower miles away from here, and then she will pose no threat", Joffrey said with a smile. He loved winning. His mother did not seem to share his enthusiasm though.

"It is a harsh thing to do. Arya is a great leader. I really wanted her to stay to help you in this war. You know she is talented", she said and sat down.

"That would never happen. I admit she is good, and the people here in Winterfell like her, but I don't like her and I don't trust her", he answered and cast a nervous glance towards the windows. He walked to the windows and looked down at the castle's yard where some of the guards were walking by. He knew everyone of them and he also knew that every single one of them liked his sister better than they liked him. It was a thorn in his side for sure.

After the ominous meeting in the Great Hall, Sansa slipped out of the castle to find Loras. Around noon, he was guarding the western side of Winterfell towards the fields. He was usually alone here, so she tucked her warmest clothes around her and went on her way. She had taken two sandwiches from the kitchen, and she was hiding them under the clothes. Yet again, it was a cold and windy day without sunshine. Sunshine was a rare pleasure in the North, but Sansa was used to it. At least it was not raining today, but the air was still moist and heavy.

She made her way through the minor storm to Loras' watch post. He was standing on the wall, looking out onto the fields. It was his job to scout the area for incoming people. Nobody ever came from this side, and Loras dreamed of more excitement in life. And pride too.

"Hey", Sansa shouted a while before he saw her, as not to startle him. She had learned that it was unwise to scare a soldier with lethal weapons.

Loras turned around and his face lit up. He was wearing the guard's uniform with armour, a spear and a sword. On his head was a heavy helmet, but his blond hair had found a way out of it across his forehead. Sansa's tummy filled with butterflies and she couldn't stop smiling.

"Sansa, my beautiful", he answered and put down the weapons. Then he held out his arms to embrace her. She instantly walked into his arms, and he put them around her. She leaned her head against his chest and relaxed.

"I brought you this", she said when he released her. She gave him the sandwich. He took it and his hands briefly touched hers. It made her shiver. He sensed it and took her hand. He caressed it and kissed it. She giggled and felt like a school girl. Then they sat down and ate, while Loras was still keeping watch.

"Did you hear Joffrey' speech?", she asked him anxiously, fearing the answer.

"Yes, I did. I don't know if he will succeed, but I will be first in line to go. He is assembling a new Lord's Guard, and I am volunteering", Loras answered with joy in his voice.

"Really?", Sansa just said, even though she knew Loras' dreams. Of course she wanted him to be happy, but she certainly did not want him to go to fight in a war that Joffrey was unable to win.

"Yes, he will soon reveal who has made the cut. But if I don't make it, I will still go with him to war to prove my worth", Loras continued.

"But it is dangerous", Sansa then said. She cared so much about him. She had never expected Winterfell to go to war. Everybody enjoyed the peace, and almost nobody wanted to disturb it.

"Oh, my dear", Loras said as he took off his helmet and leaned against Sansa. His smile melted her heart, and when he reached out to kiss her, she did not object. He kissed her lightly, and she closed her eyes and enjoyed it. Her 18 years of age had made her long for romance and maybe a little more. She desired him more than she would like to admit, and his kisses made it stronger. In her dreams, she would meet him on the green fields, and they would make tender love on the grass. Of course she would never do such a thing in real life. Her mother would kill her if she found out. She was to remain a virgin until marriage, but if she could decide, then she would not mind marrying Loras soon. Real soon.

"I'm just worried about you and the war", Sansa said when the kiss ended. He laughed and looked at her with his mesmerizing brown eyes. His face was so cute, and she blushed when he looked at her like that.

"Don't be. I'm a soldier, and Winterfell will prevail. And then we can be together". He emphasized the last sentence in a sweet voice, and she melted completely.

"I am looking forward to that", she then said and got up. She needed to return home to avoid gossip. Her mother had told her the importance of having a good reputation, and she wanted to maintain that. She was actually glad that she was no true Stark – then she would have to marry some fine lord she did not know for the good of the House. She smiled – she was probably able to marry anyone she wanted as long as they were decent.


	4. The Engagement

Joffrey was eagerly and impatiently waiting for Lord Roose Bolton to visit Winterfell. Finally, he arrived with his entire posse, and it was not a small crowd. He was bringing more than 200 soldiers with him together with council members and trusted advisors.

The Stark family was standing in front of the castle, waiting for him as he rode through the city. They were lined up next to each other, and Lady Cersei stepped forward to welcome him. Lord Roose Bolton was a big man in every way: He was tall and somewhat broad, around 40 years old and with a receding hairline. The top of his head had no hair anymore, but the rest of it was thin with grey hints. He was wearing fine clothes and a great sword. He got off his horse and kissed Lady Cersei's hand.

"Ah, my Lady. You look beautiful. The northern winds become you", he complimented her and for a moment, it occurred to her that she was lucky that Joffrey had not considered her a better match for Lord Bolton.

"Welcome, my Lord. This is my son, the new ruler of Winterfell, Joffrey Stark", she presented Joffrey. Joffrey stepped forward and shook Lord Bolton' hand.

"So this is my new friend. I already like you", Lord Bolton laughed and almost squeezed Joffrey' hand while smiling. He already liked Joffrey's proposal, too. The Stark girls were able to see Joffrey's struggle not to cry out and it amused them. Even Myrcella grinned subdued.

"This is my youngest daughter, Myrcella", Lady Cersei presented Myrcella, who made a ladylike bow in front of him. She knew how to present herself well with her golden curls and sweet face.

"Sweet thing", he said and squeezed her cheek lightly.

"My daughter from my first marriage, Sansa", Lady Cersei said and pointed at Sansa. Sansa was wearing a dark blue dress, which was so thin that she was shivering from the cold weather. She looked stunning in it though, with her hair tied in a bow and a bolero of feathers covering her shoulders. She smiled at the Lord and looked at him. He smiled twice as much and did not seem to want to look away. Lady Cersei noticed it and almost dragged him towards Arya.

"And my sweet Arya. She is 17 years old and a real beauty", she said, trying to sound convincing. Both Arya and her sister looked at their mother with surprise. She had never said such things about Arya before. Arya herself felt alert at once, not liking what was going on. Her mother had made her wear a slim fit light pink dress with flowers attached to it. It was low cut and showed off her curves. As the old man looked at her, she figured it all out. Inside, she was panicking and all she could think about was to run away.

"A pleasure", Lord Bolton just said and kissed her hand. She smiled back and felt afraid. He barely looked at her though, and it made the whole situation weirder.

Both Joffrey and Lady Cersei seemed uncomfortable too. Joffrey did nothing but stand there, but Lady Cersei took control and invited Lord Bolton inside the castle.

People started filling the castle, but Arya was not moving. The chill from the wind she had felt before was replaced by the chill of fear. She tried to pull herself together and seem cool on the outside. After a while, she was alone in the yard, but then her mother came back out of the castle, almost running.

"What are you still doing out here? Get inside and get ready for dinner", she scolded her, but Arya just looked at her. She was amazed that she was able to hold back her tears.

"How can you do this?", she asked with a cold voice. Luckily, her voice wasn't trembling like she had feared.

"Do what?", she said, trying to cover up her schemes.

"You know. This dress. Lord Bolton coming here. Calling me a beauty. I'm not stupid", Arya said loudly, almost yelling. Her mother looked hurt.

"I'm not doing anything", she just said, quivering in the cold. Arya looked at her with blame in her eyes.

"Don't you dare play innocent. I'm not doing this. You can't make me. Then you have to kill me first", Arya said with authority in her voice. She felt like she was stepping up at last. But she had to. Otherwise she was doomed.

"It was not my decision. I expect you to obey", she said, turning around and leaving her daughter.

"I don't take orders from you. Or from anybody", Arya screamed at her. Her mother stopped and thought about her deceased husband, Ned. He had once said the exact same words to a superior. She smiled while shedding a tear.

Arya stood alone for a couple of minutes before running inside. She went straight to her room and tore off the dress. She put on her armour and collected a few items. She looked into the mirror, put up her hair and tried to wipe off the makeup. Her eyes were tearing up and she took a deep breath. She had no choice but to leave Winterfell at once.

Inside the Lord's quarters, Lord Joffrey sat down opposite Lord Bolton. Lady Cersei attended the meeting as well, standing nervously close to the door.

"So, do we have a deal? My sister for your support and men in the war against the King? You will marry her here in Winterfell tomorrow, and this will make you my brother by marriage. When we defeat the King in King's Landing I will be the new King and you can have any title you want", Joffrey said, but not as confidently as normally. Lord Bolton did not respond immediately.

"And gold and land, did I mention that?", he added, in hope of making Lord Bolton more happy. His war against the throne was depending on this alliance.

"I want to be the sole Lord of Harrenhal", Lord Bolton said, looking directly into Joffrey' eyes. Joffrey looked at his mother, who nodded before answering:

"Deal".

Lord Bolton became quiet again, glancing around the room.

"This sister of yours, how is she?", he then asked. Joffrey looked confused again.

"She is sweet. And obedient. She does whatever you say", he answered, hoping to say what he wanted to hear.

"I don't want her", he then said. Both Joffrey's and Cersei's jaws dropped.

"But my dear lord, Lady Arya is a beautiful girl. And pure and she can give you many sons", Lady Cersei rushed over to Lord Bolton to say. She took his hand and squeezed it. His eyes sought hers with a look of disbelief. Then he got up.

"I don't want her. I want a pretty little wife, who does what I say. I want a quiet and womanly wife who will not interfere with my business. And your Arya is not like that. I know who she is. A pretty dress doesn't fool me. I saw her look. It was defiance all over. No doubt a good soldier, but not a good wife", he said, walking to the door and opening it up a bit. Joffrey and Cersei did not answer; they were choosing their words carefully.

Meanwhile, Lord Bolton took a small peek out through the half-open door. He was looking out into the living quarters, where Sansa was sitting, embroidering, as she worked on a new pattern. It was a family of cats, which Sansa was now bringing to life. The lord did not take his eyes from her, before closing the door and facing Lord Joffrey and Lady Cersei.

"I want the other girl. The tall, red-headed one", he then said.

"You want Sansa?", Lady Cersei asked. She felt confused and uneasy. Sansa was _her_ daughter.

"Yes, I want your Sansa. Such a good-looking girl. A sweet face and nice body. Within a fortnight, she will already be carrying my son", he answered, laughing to himself, obviously picturing Sansa naked in his bed inside his mind. Lady Cersei felt like she was choking and Joffrey spoke.

"She is not a trueborn Stark", he said, still determined to make his new ally choose Arya. Lord Bolton shook his head.

"I don't mind. I like this girl. As long as you will still make me Lord of Harrenhal with all the land and money I desire", he said, getting ready to leave.

"Well, naturally, my Lord. You can still have all that, but wouldn't you rather marry a trueborn?", Joffrey tried again.

"Your trueborn would be a trueborn pain in my ass. I know that kind of woman when I see one. My first wife was like that, and I won't have anyone like her to replace her", Lord Bolton said, leaving very little choice for Joffrey. Cersei did not speak. She was still in shock. She did not want to lose Sansa, but there was nothing she could do.

"Okay, I understand. It is a deal. You will marry my sister Sansa here tomorrow. Then you can take her home, and then we start planning our attack on King's Landing. I want to conquer it within a year from now", Joffrey said, mildly annoyed with not having Arya removed.

"Very well", Lord Bolton said. "Now you will introduce me to my future bride and we will have a feast to celebrate". Lord Joffrey's smile had returned to his lips, and he almost ran to his new ally, while his mother quickly followed, more troubled than she wanted to admit to herself.


	5. Accepting the Fate

Lord Roose Bolton had made up his mind about who would become his future wife, and the thought of the young Sansa made his mouth water. It had been a long time since he had last seen such a beautiful girl.

Lady Cersei led the lord and her son through the living quarters towards Sansa, who was still blessed with ignorance about her family's plans.

"Sweetheart, Sansa", Lady Cersei said to her. She put aside her cats and paid attention to her mother.

"Yes, mother", she said with a smile.

"I had always hoped that, despite your heritage, you would be able to get a decent marriage, and now I am beyond happy. I am so happy for you", she said with a tear in her eye. Sansa got up, looking confused.

"Lord Bolton has asked for your hand in marriage, and the wedding will happen tomorrow. You will be Lady Bolton of the Dreadfort and you will be rich and happy there", she continued and embraced her daughter.

For a moment, Sansa was unable to comprehend what was going on. As her mother embraced her, she looked at Lord Bolton who was standing behind her mother next to Joffrey. Joffrey had already lost interest in the engagement. All he cared about was getting the wedding over with, so he could start planning the conquering of King's Landing. Lord Bolton, on the other hand, had a wide smile on his face. Sansa stood still, looking at his dark eyes and narrow lips. He had wrinkles on his cheeks and scars after battle, but he did not look evil. That was the one redeeming thing about him.

Lady Cersei let her go and placed her hand in Lord Bolton's. Compared to his, her hand was tiny and fragile. As he closed his worn and dirty fingers around hers, he only squeezed them tenderly. Not the way he had greeted Joffrey, when he had arrived.

"My Lady", he said and bowed down in front of her, "it is an honour to marry you". He did not exactly seem to have good manners, but he tried his best. Sansa was speechless, so her mother stepped in.

"Oh, how charming! My daughter is too stunned and amazed to talk. I assure you, she is happy", she said, and Sansa forced herself to smile.

"You go get ready for dinner now. You have to look your best. Our entire plan depends on you. Wear something that makes him like you. Something that enchants him", Lady Cersei then whispered to Sansa and gave her a shove to make her leave. Sansa smiled and left.

Inside her own room, she sat down on her bed. Her mind was empty, and she was unable to understand what had just happened. As the thoughts started to assemble inside her mind, she got angry and then she cried. She tossed herself down on her bed with her face in the pillow and tried to choke the tears. She had wanted Loras, and only a while ago, her future had seemed free and promising. Now the outcome of her life was decided, and her new life was as the Lady of the Dreadfort. It was not a bad place, according to what she had heard. The climate was all right there, and during the summers there were green fields and small creeks and wild rivers. But the nature alone was not enough to make her happy. She was not in love with the lord, and she would never fall in love with him. Sansa's frustration grew wilder as she thought about what she had just lost. To her, it was her entire life. She had wanted to marry for love and live happily with the man of her dreams, not some old lord in a place not of her choice. She had wanted to see the South someday and travel to King's Landing. It was supposed to be a beautiful and vivid sight, close to the blue water and red mountains.

Her sobbing was interrupted as the door opened. She got up in a hurry, but it was only Arya. She looked bewildered.

"I have made the arrangements, but you have to leave tonight", Arya said, grabbing Sansa's suitcase.

"What?", Sansa asked, not even trying to hide her tears.

"You have to leave. I can probably convince Loras to go with you. And don't worry, I will come and visit you", Arya continued, quite determined.

Sansa got up and shook her head. Arya saw it and stopped packing Sansa's stuff.

"Don't you want to get away?", Arya asked surprised. Sansa looked at her with despair in her eyes.

"I can't. What good will that do?", Sansa asked and sat down on her bed again.

"It will make you free. I know that it will have consequences, and I know you will face dangers and both Joffrey's and Lord Bolton's rage, but at least you won't have to end your life tomorrow as some old pig's wife. You can't do that to yourself", Arya argued. She was surprised by Sansa's reaction and her unwillingness to act.

"Arya, I know that you mean well, but I am not you. I can't fight and I can't live a life in constant danger", Sansa said, feeling dejected. Arya put down the suitcase and sat down on the bed next to Sansa.

"Are you sure? But isn't marrying Lord Bolton worse?", Arya asked in a calm voice.

"No. It is not. I have to make the best of it", Sansa said and looked apologetically at her sister.

"Okay", Arya said with a sigh and got up. "It's your life", she continued and gave Sansa a look full of blame before leaving the room.

An hour later, Sansa was ready for dinner. Her maids had been busy making her look her best. She had been standing in the middle of her room, while they had been running around her, dressing her and doing her hair. She looked into the mirror. She had to admit that she had never been prettier with her red curls framing her face, and the good features in her face highlighted with makeup. She was wearing a faint yellow dress with a silver belt showing her womanly curves. It was tight, and her breasts were pushed up to make the lord desire her even more. Needless to say, she felt uncomfortable.

There was no escaping it, so she went down the stairs to join the dinner. Everybody else was already there, getting up for her and cheering her on. Everybody was clapping their hands while looking admiringly at her. She walked down the narrow isle between the tables, watching the Stark family's table at the end, where the Starks and Lord Bolton were sitting. Myrcella seemed bothered that she was not the centre of attention, Arya looked utterly miserable, Joffrey looked impatient, Lady Cersei looked proudly at her daughter, and finally there was Lord Bolton, who had already started eating. He looked up at his future bride, and quickly his eyes found her pushed up breasts. He looked like a child in a candy store. Sansa did not like the idea that her body was his candy store.

When Sansa reached the end, her soon-to-be husband pulled out the chair and she sat down. The eating began, but she had lost her appetite. The Lord of the Dreadfort had not. He was eating like a man who hadn't seen food in a week. He shovelled it down, and his eating was only interrupted by short glances at her. Each time, he made hushed noises which sounded like he loved what he saw. He barely spoke to her during the dinner. When he finished his meal, he sat back and made a satisfied burp.

"What great food you have here in Winterfell. And such beautiful ladies", he said and turned his focus to Sansa. He smelled of wine, and he had also had plenty. This was not the first time, it seemed. Sansa just tried to smile politely at him, but he moved closer to her. He put his fingers around one of her curls and played with it.

"You hair smells good, my Lady", he said and sniffed her curls, "arh, yummy". Sansa did not know how to respond.

"And your pretty face", he continued and caressed her soft skin. His hands reeked from the pieces of deer he had eaten with his hands. Sansa sat completely still while he first stroked her cheeks softly. Then he touched her lips with the tip of his fingers before giving her nose a gentle pat.

"I am really going to enjoy you", he then leaned in and whispered into her ear. The smell of greasy dinner and red wine got worse. She took a large sip of her own red wine to cope with the situation, and the lord leaned his big body back in the soft chair.

"You are not afraid of me, girl, are you?", he then asked with an intense look, while he was fighting to keep his eyes focused on her. His vision was blurred from the wine. Sansa mustered some courage and looked at him with a smile.

"No, I am not. Of course not", she answered in a sweet voice.

"I like your voice too", he then said. "And you have no reason to. I will be gentle to you", he continued and leaned towards her again and kissed her forehead.

"I will be gentle tomorrow night too, if you are a good girl", he then whispered into her ear. Sansa froze and was unable to eat another bite of her food.

Sansa did not sleep that night. She was terrified of the next day. The wedding was one thing, but the wedding night was worse. She was unable to get his words out of her mind. When she had thought about Loras, the idea of making love had been alluring and intriguing, but with Lord Bolton, the mere thought of him on top of her naked body felt nauseating.

Since she was unable to sleep, she got up. She wanted to find Loras. Luckily, he had a night watch this night. She had to find him now. Tomorrow would be too late.

She got dressed and snuck out of the castle without getting noticed. The city was fast asleep. Only a couple of taverns were open, and Sansa could hear the customers' loud brawl. She went past them on the muddy paths to the watchtower. She took a shortcut and quickly she was on the city wall, where she had met Loras a short while ago with the sandwiches.

The wind was furious this night, and even her warm clothes were not able to keep her warm. Above her, the moon was shining. It was almost full, and the beams lit up the night. She did not need a torch to see where she was stepping.

When she finally saw him, she stopped to watch him for a bit. The moonlight lit up his handsome face as he was keeping watch and gazing out onto the fields. He looked proud, and it suited him. She moved closer, and he noticed her.

"Oh! I thought I was never going to see you again", he said and ran to her to embrace her. He dropped his spear and sword and took her in his arms. Though she was fighting it, the tears started falling from her eyes.

"I am so sorry, my love. I really am. I have let you down", she cried inside his embrace. He swayed her slowly from side to side under the shining moon.

"No. No, don't you say that. It is not your fault", he comforted her and kissed the top of her head.

"Oh, Loras", she cried, "what are we going to do?". He held her body in a firmer grip to be closer to her. He took her face in his hands and put her lips to his mouth. They shared a passionate kiss, and another and another.

"I don't know, but I will not bring you in trouble", he said and looked into her teary eyes. He wiped them away and kissed her nose.

"I know we will find a way, even though it seems to be impossible", he said, not giving up hope. She looked at his wonderful eyes that were full of care and love.

"Make love to me", she then whispered and pressed her face against his chest.

"What?", he asked in surprise. She broke free of his embrace and looked at him again.

"Make love to me. Here on the wall. I don't care if it is cold and on hard stones, I just want you. Maybe I will never get the chance again, and I don't want Lord Bolton to be the first", she almost begged him. He looked at her, bewildered, and thought carefully about her request. Yes, he wanted her and wanted to make love to her, but he was not sure it was a good idea. If they got caught, he would be punished with death and she would probably suffer something worse.

"Are you sure? Think about the risks", he then said tenderly and put his hands on her cheeks. She nodded. "I am sure. I really want you now. I need you", she answered.

He smiled at her and embraced her once more. Then he took off his cloak and put it on the ground. He took off all his clothes and put it on top of the cloak, so Sansa could lie a bit more comfortably. Sansa studied his muscular body. In the moonlight, his skin was white as chalk, and he was beautiful to her. Slowly, he walked towards her and pulled off her robe. Under it, she was wearing her nightgown, and gently he pulled it off too. Then she was naked, and he looked at her body. Her skin was as white as his, and he put his hands on her breasts. It made her moan, and he squeezed them softly. Then he kissed them and took her hand. He led her to the bed of clothes, and he put her down on top of it.

"Are you okay?", he then asked before kneeling down beside her.

"Yes", she whispered, even though she was both cold and a little nervous. She was also starting to get excited, and it got more intense when he touched her inner thighs. She got goose bumps all over and it was not from the cold. He knew what he was doing and bent down over her to kiss her several times. She put her hands around his head and held him tight. To arouse her further and make her body ready, he put his hand between her legs and caressed her. It made her moan loudly, and she started feeling turned on. She had never been touched by a man before, but with Loras it felt natural. He kept exciting her, and after a while, he withdrew his hand.

"Are you ready, my love?", he asked tenderly and looked into her eyes. She nodded, and he lay down on top of her. She felt nervous again and feared it would hurt, but it did not. Gently he penetrated her, a little at a time, and after a while, he was able to make love to her in a steady rhythm. Sansa closed her eyes and enjoyed it fully. Their lovemaking made her feel closer to him and created an invisible bond between them that would last when they were separated.

When he finally pulled himself out of her again, she felt short-breathed and in another world. She didn't know if she had reached her climax, but it had felt good. It had tickled mesmerizingly inside her body and had made her forget the wedding and her unfortunate future.

"Did you like it?", Loras asked and pulled the clothes around her naked body. She pulled him close to her and nodded.

"Yes, it felt wonderful", she answered. He smiled and put his arms around her.

"I will always remember this", he then said while holding her.

"So will I", she responded and looked out towards the darkness. The cold had started getting to her, and she was ready to face her fate. She looked at Loras one last time and captured this image. She locked it inside her heart to keep it safe forever.


	6. In Need of Assistance

Arya woke up early next morning. Just like Sansa, she had barely slept at all. Though relieved that it wasn't her who was the bride today, she felt angry on behalf of Sansa. Even though Arya was not particularly fond of her sister, she couldn't help but feel fiercely annoyed with how things were decided in the Stark family.

She got out of her bed, got dressed and headed downstairs to find her mother. Being less cold than Joffrey, Cersei Stark was the one to reason with, Arya thought. It was a chilly morning like always with no sun at all. The wind was as unforgiving as ever too, and Arya quickly moved inside the castle again, after getting some fresh air on top of the castle walls. Far away, she spotted Loras patrolling, and she knew she had to talk to him as well before the wedding, which was starting in a couple of hours.

"Mother", Arya said, not unkindly, as she met her mother in the living quarters. Cersei was alone, and Arya was pleased about that. Joffrey's presence would have made this conversation impossible.

"Arya", Cersei said, surprised, and put aside her sowing. Arya looked at it and recognised the fabric – it was Sansa's wedding dress, and seeing this made her feel more infuriated than she wanted to seem. Calmly though, Arya sat down opposite her mother in the soft sofa. Cersei looked older this morning, with dark circles around her eyes due to lack of sleep. Her hair was not combed and looked as wild as a beggar's from King's Landing.

"You look tired", Arya said as neutrally as possible.

"I have a lot on my mind", she answered in the same tone, giving nothing away. Arya contemplated continuing with the polite conversation, but she was too impatient to do so.

"How can you do this?", she then said with blame in her voice, and instantly she knew it was the wrong approach.

"What would you have me do?", her mother snarled at her daughter. She tried to look innocent and in despair, but Arya was not fooled.

"I just never thought that you would do this to Sansa. Me maybe, but not Sansa. And I get it. Sansa is _your_ daughter, and I guess it is natural for you to protect her more", Arya said in a low voice. Cersei looked hurt.

"I did not have a choice. It was not my decision", she defended herself.

"No, I know. It was Joffrey's call, but you could have stopped him. You know very well that Lord Bolton is not a good man. Sansa will never be happy being married to him. She wants romance and beautiful places, not a rough drunk as a husband and The Dreadfort as her home. She is meant for a place like King's Landing", Arya continued, trying to make her mother feel guilty. It worked, and she let go of the wedding dress and started walking around in a restless manner.

"You know I am telling the truth", Arya kept on talking, realizing that she was right.

"Of course I do!", her mother answered angrily and looked directly at Arya with teary eyes. It felt like a victory to Arya.

"Joffrey is out of control, and no one is trying to stop him", Arya then said, rubbing salt into her wounds.

"I can't stop him. He has no reason to listen to me. I am just his mother, not a member of his council. I have no say in any of this. Of course I am not happy about marrying Sansa to Lord Bolton, but my hands are tied. I just have to hope that she will make the best of it", Cersei said resignedly and sat down again. Arya looked closely at her to read her body language.

"You'd rather it was me, wouldn't you?" Arya then asked in a silent voice. Her mother looked up into her eyes.

"Yes, I do", she answered but without anger or hatred.

"Why? It can't all be about what happened back then with me and Sansa", Arya asked without raising her voice. She wanted to scream at her for what she had just heard. This was a confession she would never forget. Even though she knew that her mother loved Sansa much more than she loved her, it really hurt hearing it directly. Her mother buried her face in her hands for a second before wiping away the tears that she was unable to control.

"No, but of course that has something to do with it. But you see, after Martin died, your father put his faith in you and not in his other son. Joffrey never got praise or recognition the way you did, and it made me angry. He deserved it as much as you did, but in your father's eyes, you were perfect. You and Martin were, not Joffrey. I guess that made me more attached to him", Cersei confessed, and even though Arya looked all calm on the surface, on the inside she was fuming and wanted to hurt her mother more than ever before.

"I appreciate your honesty. And I guess you will do nothing this afternoon when Lord Bolton claims his new wife, then?", Arya said and got up. She could not stand looking at her mother for another second.

"I can't", Cersei said, and Arya walked towards the door, but her mother's voice stopped her.

"But for the record, I do wish that Joffrey was more like you. He has no kind heart, and you do. He is too power hungry, and you only want what is yours. He cares about becoming a fearsome king and you just want to rule Winterfell for the good of the people", she then said. The words were the most surprising words she had ever heard from her mother, and she was taken aback for a second.

"You know who else fits this description of me?", Arya just asked, opening the door. Her mother sought her eyes to make her understand what kind of position she was in, but Arya had no pity in her eyes. Not this time.

"Yes, your father", Cersei said resignedly. Arya took that stamp of approval with her and left. It was the first time her mother had praised her in several years, but right now it hurt more than it made her feel glad.

The morning went quickly, and Arya stepped out of the castle into the city to find Loras, who was her last hope. She wrapped her clothes tightly around her to keep out the wind before heading towards the guards' quarters. Loras was guarding the city walls as usual, and luckily he was alone. On top of the wall, the wind was blowing stronger, and it was difficult to walk the uneven stones without falling down. Arya managed though and found Loras at the end of the wall in the small shack, where the guards were allowed to take small breaks.

"My lady", Loras said and bowed when Arya approached him.

"You don't have to do that", she said and entered the shack to talk to him. She was acquainted with a lot of Winterfell's soldiers and guards, but she did not know Loras very well. He got up again and took off his helmet. His golden hair came down and framed his face handsomely. Arya watched him and was easily able to see why Sansa liked him so much. He was a handsome man, and it was no wonder that the girls of Winterfell swooned whenever he walked by them. He was not her type, though.

"I know you love my sister, so you don't have to waste time denying that", she said. At first, he looked a bit scared before calming down.

"Don't worry, I have not come here to punish you for loving her. I have come here in need of your assistance", Arya continued, and now he looked confused. Arya started wondering if he was a bit dumb under the beautiful appearance.

"What do you mean?", he asked.

"Well, you do know that today my sister is being wed to Lord Bolton, right?", she asked him, unsure if he was mocking her, but his nod and painful distant look made her feel better.

"Well, I don't want that, and you don't want that", she said.

"No, of course I don't want that, but there is nothing I can do", he said. He felt dazed and had to look away. Arya wondered if he was going to cry.

"There is something you can do. If you truly love her, then you have to run away together. I know it is dangerous, but I will help you. I have many allies, and it will be no problem for you to make a new living. My friends in the town of White Harbor will take you in and give you new identities. No one will look for you there. I know it is far south and close to the shore, but it is a nice place", Arya explained her plan. To her confusion, Loras did not look excited, and now she realized that he was not close to crying.

"I can't. I am close to becoming a member of the Lord's Guard", he said in a determined voice. It sent shivers down her spine.

"What do you mean? You love Sansa, she should be your first priority", she said, not understanding his words. He looked at her with confident eyes.

"I am sorry, but I have to stay here. I am meant to be a member of the Lord's Guard, and that is my first priority", he said. Arya stood up, wanting to strike him, but she contained herself yet again.

"What about my sister? She talks about you nonstop and believes that you love her", Arya almost yelled. Loras bowed his head, looking ashamed.

"I really do like Sansa, but we were never meant to be. She is highborn and I am not. There was never any chance that we could marry. My allegiance lies with Winterfell and thereby the ruler, Lord Joffrey. I will fight for him and give him my life", Loras explained, letting down his guard. Arya looked into his eyes and witnessed a true dilemma. A part of her was able to understand him. He was right that he would never be good enough to marry Sansa, but the feeling that he had deceived and betrayed her sister began to grow.

"You should never have led her to believe that you loved her. You should never have started anything with her", Arya said, boiling on the inside.

"I know, but I was young, and so was she. It was a fool's hope, I know, and it was stupid, I know that", he said, finally letting Arya see that he meant it. She couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him, but unfortunately for him, Lord Ned Stark had taught her to always let her family come first. She made a move to leave the shack but turned around in the doorway.

"I am sorry, really. Please let her know that", Loras then said. This time, he was close to crying. But Arya sensed it was more because of his bruised pride than because of his loss of Sansa, the girl he supposedly loved. Arya smiled but it was a devious smile.

"No, I will not tell her that. However, I _will_ tell my brother what an outstanding soldier you are and that you would make an excellent choice for his Lord's Guard", she said. She watched how his face lit up, before turning anxious.

"That would mean the world to me. I really appreciate your help, My Lady. I knew you would understand, but will you brother listen to you? There are rumours that you are at odds with your brother", he said. Arya smiled at him, the nicest way she was able to do.

"That is true. When I start praising you and beg him to take you in, he will do the opposite just to spite me. I guess he will probably ruin your career as a soldier. I guess he will send you somewhere far away, Somewhere like – oh, maybe like White Harbor", she said, and by the end of the sentence, he was able to feel all her anger. As she left, he just stared into the darkness, realizing that messing with the family of a scorned woman had been a grave mistake.


	7. The Wedding

Sansa woke up when her maidens came into her room to get her ready for the big day. Her mother was leading them, handing out orders and commands, but she quickly left. Sansa was relieved that she did, as she was scared that she would find out what she had done with sweet Loras last night. Getting out of bed, she recalled that crazy night where she had made love to her love. It did not hurt at all today, just like it had been almost painless during the penetration. He had caressed and excited her so much that she had only felt pleasure, but she was afraid that today would be different.

Her mother reappeared with a white dress in her hands, and everybody went quiet.

"Here is your wedding dress, my dear. Wear it with pride, but I am sure you will", her mother said and held it up for her to see. It really was beautiful, made from delicate silk. It was a warm shade of white, had a broad neckline and was narrow around the waist. The skirt, on the other hand, was wide and waving and small pearls were attached to it.

"Help her get it on", Cersei shouted at the maidens, who quickly followed her command. Then she was sat on a chair and a tray with food was placed in front of her. She was not hungry, but her mother urged her to eat, and she obeyed. The maidens did her hair and put makeup on her face, and as the last thing, they attached the veil to her hairdo. Sansa cast a look in the mirror and saw a beautiful girl. It was her, and it made her smile until she remembered why she had to look this good. She felt like a slave being sold against her will. She had seen slaves south of Winterfell being sold when she had been on trips with her father, and she had never forgotten the scared and anxious looks in the eyes of the slaves. They had no idea who was going to buy them, and therefore they did not know whether their future would be reasonable or painful. She had already met her owner and she had no hopes of living a happy life with him.

"Oh, you look so beautiful", Cersei said and sat down beside her daughter. She gestured for the maidens to go away, so she could share a moment alone with her daughter.

"Aren't you happy? Lord Bolton is a great match. He is rich and lives in a nice place. I will come visit you soon", Cersei continued and touched the veil gently. Sansa looked numbly at her mother.

"He is a rude animal without manners", she said, and without hesitating Cersei slapped Sansa across the face. Instantly, she knew she had crossed the line and covered her mouth with her hands.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to, my darling", she tried to fix things, but Sansa avoided her. Her flesh was aching, but she did not really feel the pain.

"He is a rude animal without manners", Sansa repeated her words and looked at her mother with contempt in her eyes. This time Cersei did not respond immediately.

"I know it is hard for you, I know that. I was married away to your father too when I was only 17, but I made the best of it", her mother then said.

"How was my father?", Sansa asked. Cersei almost never spoke of Ludwig Hastings, her first husband.

"Kind sometimes, but mostly he was in war with everyone. He liked fighting, but he loved the fields of Southguard so much", Cersei told her daughter. For a moment, Sansa thought about her real father, but she had never felt the need to mourn him, having never met him. Lord Ned Stark had been like a real father to her, and he had never seemed to mind that she was not his daughter. At least he had never treated her differently than he had treated his other children.

"But are you ready?", her mother then interrupted Sansa's thoughts of the man she had called her father. If he had been alive, this would never have happened.

"I guess", Sansa responded. Her mother looked intensely at her and stroked her hair on top of the veil.

"Ready for the wedding night too?", she then asked softly. Sansa looked away, thinking about Loras.

"I don't know", she responded to sound innocent.

"It does not have to be unpleasant, my dear", her mother started telling her. Sansa kept looking away.

"When your husband decides it is time to consummate your marriage, do not struggle. Get undressed and lie down on the bed", Cersei told her, and Sansa wanted to cover her ears so badly. She couldn't stand listening to this, because in her head she saw herself with Lord Bolton.

"And then you invite him into your embrace. Try to kiss him first so soften him up. Touch him in his sensitive places and maybe he will do the same to you. That will make the intercourse less painful. But if it hurts, do not make a noise. Let him penetrate you until he reaches his climax, and then it will be over", Cersei continued, but this time it was too much for Sansa to cope with.

"I get it, okay", she said as she got up and walked towards the door. She opened it to attend her wedding. She wanted to get it over with so she could be alone and cry out her pain.

The ceremony began in the church, and all the fine people from Winterfell and a few from The Dreadfort were assembled to celebrate the union between House Stark and House Bolton. Sansa felt nothing and just stared out into nothing when the ceremony started. Her brother led her down the aisle. He talked to her, but she heard nothing. She shut him out. At least this would be the last day she had to see him and be next to him. It was a small comfort, though. At the end of the aisle, Lord Roose Bolton was standing, waiting for her. He looked a bit impatient, but he looked cleaner than the day before. His hair was combed and his face looked a little fresher. He was wearing dark robes, and it made him look slimmer. That was a becoming look too.

At the end of the aisle, Joffrey let go of her and Lord Bolton took her hand. Her heart was racing and she felt like she was suffocating. She was close to crying when the Lord took her hand and led her up the final steps. This was her new life, and she knew she was never going to be able to live again. As Roose Bolton took her hand and thereby touched her skin, she thought about the last way out: suicide. As she looked at him, this opportunity suddenly seemed like a good choice, and oddly she found comfort in this.

The priest started talking, and Sansa only woke up when she had to say her "I do". Saying the words made it more real, but the thought of finally having a way out gave her a newfound courage. When he agreed to be her husband, he looked at her. She looked back, but he gave nothing away. He studied her body to get to know her, and he seemed to like her appearance. Then he put his hand around her neck and pulled her closer, when the priest had announced them husband and wife. Everybody expected a kiss, so she let him do it. He put both of his big, strong hands around her neck and surprisingly softly pulled her lips close to his and kissed her tenderly. She had expected a rough, brutal kiss, but this was different, and when he let her go, she felt confused while the crowd was cheering. This was the first time he actually smiled at her.

The feast started after the ceremony, and Sansa was sitting next to her husband and her Stark family. Roose was sitting next to Joffrey too, and Joffrey did not stop talking to him. He was laughing loudly while making war plans, and Joffrey could barely wait until Roose would return from The Dreadfort. Roose and Sansa were to travel there next morning, and after a while he would return to Winterfell to plan the attack on King's Landing with Joffrey. At this time, Sansa was expected to be pregnant with the heir to The Dreadfort as Roose Bolton had no legitimate sons from his first marriage. Sansa shivered when her mother had told her about these plans. She had not thought about the fact that she was expected to have children so soon, and the thought of childbirth scared her. She had heard how bearing a child would hurt you and that giving birth to children could kill you. Sitting there next to her new husband, who was also her new ruler, she really hoped that the night with Loras had got her pregnant, so she would give birth to his child and not Roose's. Loras' baby would probably have blonde hair, but her mother had blonde hair too, so that would not be suspicious.

During the feast, her husband only spoke to her a couple of times. He was more polite this time and did not drink that much. When he did talk to her, he only asked her random things. She answered politely but did not ask questions herself. He seemed to be in a good mood now and she did not want to spoil that so close to the wedding night.

The time Sansa had feared approached after several hours of eating, dancing and celebrating. Lord Roose Bolton thanked Joffrey for a splendid feast, then turned to his wife and in a quick move he lifted her up and started carrying her into the private quarters. In his arms she felt almost weightless, and to her surprise again, his grip around her was soft and he was careful not to hurt her. She did not want to, but she put her arms around his neck and put her head on his shoulder. He did not smell of wine and meat, but instead he smelled of soap.

He closed the door behind then, and she saw the big bed in front of her. Her heart skipped several beats and she did not feel ready to sleep with him. He put her gently down on the floor and caressed her chin without a word. She did not move until he told her to get undressed. The words made her shiver all over, and she started to shake too.

"Get into bed", he then said and she turned around naked. He was now standing in front of her naked too. She looked at him discreetly and saw a big, hairy body which was a lot taller than her. He had a big belly from drinking too much wine, but she did not dare to look further south down his body. He looked at her too and sat on the bed. He reached out for her hand and pulled her closer to him. He was surely measuring her body and put his hands on her breasts. He moaned as he squeezed them. She froze and did not move. His squeezes were not hard though, and it did not hurt either when he pinched her nipples. It aroused him and he put his mouth to her breasts as he pulled her closer. As his tongue explored her breasts, his hands were sliding down her back to her behind and thighs. She closed her eyes and pretended it was Loras, but not even when he put his hands between her legs did he hurt her. He made her spread them a bit and moved his fingers back and forth between her legs. Pretending it was Loras with closed eyes actually helped, and after a while, she started feeling a little turned on. When he noticed, he laughed a bit, and she opened her eyes.

"Oh well, there you go", he just said. She did not know how to respond but felt a bit embarrassed.

"Lie down on the bed", he then said to her. It did not sound like a command, more like a suggestion. She obeyed and lay down on her back on the bed. He placed himself beside her, and she was unable to miss his erection. Carefully, she put her hand on it and started touching it too. He instantly started moaning and closed his eyes. She kept moving her hand up and down, and he moaned louder and seemed to enjoy it.

"Stop", he then said, and it sounded like he was begging her. She stopped and wiped her hand quickly on the blanket.

"Let's see if we can make a baby boy", he then said and started climbing on top of her. He looked impatient, but he waited a moment to penetrate her.

"I guess you are a virgin?", he then asked her. She felt the blood run cold in her veins. Did he know?

"Yes", she finally said, her eyes begging him not to hurt her if he knew.

"It has been a while since I have had a virgin. I better do it differently then", he said, almost with a smile and started biting her nipples gently while putting his hand between her legs again. She told herself to be happy that he was so gentle to her, so she willingly spread her legs a little wider. He smiled and started rubbing her again. This time it felt arousing, and a couple of moans escaped from her lips. It aroused him further, and she felt how his touch made her more turned on.

"This won't hurt", he then whispered and slipped a finger inside her. He was right – it did not hurt, but it was a little uncomfortable. After a while, she had adjusted to his finger moving in and out, so when he started using two fingers it still did not hurt. It actually made her moan more, and pretending it was Loras made it feel more exciting and her entire lower body started to tickle in sweet waves. He pulled his hand away and mounted her softly. Before penetrating her, he leaned his head down close to hers and kissed her lips. After the kiss, she felt him entering her. He did it slowly, and started moving in and out of her in a steady pace. He kept looking at her to make sure she was not in too much pain before quickening the pace. As the pace grew faster, she found herself getting more and more aroused too. Her quiet moans had become louder, and he loved hearing it. He made a few hard thrusts, and he almost roared out as she felt him climaxing inside her, threatening to make her pregnant. He pulled himself out of her and rolled onto his back, exhausted. She did not know if it was okay for her to move, so she kept lying still on the bed. She felt relieved. It had not hurt at all, and he had been so much gentler to her than she had ever thought or hoped for.

"Did it hurt?", he then asked her and raised himself up on his elbow.

"No, my lord. It did not", she replied and felt ashamed about being naked and exposed in front of him. He chuckled and put the blanket over them. She felt confused, and it got weirder when she felt his hand between her legs again.

"You want to do it again?", she asked without thinking. For a moment she feared she had asked a wrong question, but instead he just chuckled again.

"No, I am just going to make you feel better", he said, starting to touch her between her legs again.

"This is what happens when you are a good wife to me", he when whispered. For a moment, she felt like it was a threat, but when he intensified the rubbing, she was unable to think straight and just let the pleasure take over. After a while she was unable to lie still and moaned out loudly, and then she felt what she had never felt before: Her entire lower body was falling into waves of pleasure and the strongest tickling she had ever felt went on for ages inside her. Then she too collapsed on the bed, feeling like she was in another world. She needed a moment to get herself together, and then she faced her husband. He was lying on his side, watching her.

"You liked that?", he asked. She nodded.

"Yes, very much", she said.

"Good", he then responded, got up and grabbed his belt from his trousers. Without warning, he hit it hard against the bed pole, and Sansa almost screamed.

"You see this?", he asked, looking grave. She nodded and felt scared.

"This is what happens to you if you ever disrespect me. You understand that?", he said with great authority in his voice.

"Yes, my lord", she almost cried. She lay down on her side to sob quietly, away from him. He let go of the belt and lay down next to her. Then he put his arm gently around her and pulled her close while kissing the back of her head. Sansa's eyes were wide open. She did not know what to do now. She knew good men, and she knew bad men, but she had never come across a man who was both, and who apparently was able to turn from the sweetest and caring husband to an evil demon within seconds. This she had not expected.


	8. Leaving Winterfell

The next day, Wintefell got ready to say goodbye to a member of the ruling family. Roose Bolton got up early to discuss his plans with Joffrey, leaving Sansa alone in the bed. She woke up early too, but she did not want to get out of bed. Everything was different. Yesterday, she was still Sansa Hastings, daughter of the Lady of Winterfell, but today she was Lady Bolton, wife of the ruler of The Dreadfort. Not being interested in power, this title meant nothing to her. It was only the chain that would forever keep her tied to The Dreadfort and her new husband. She decided not to consider her future today. Maybe there was a Loras in The Dreadfort, or maybe Roose would leave her alone after giving him a son, letting her choose her own life. She knew it was a faint hope, but maybe he would let her travel and see the world. And if Joffrey was to succeed in conquering King's Landing, maybe she could travel there too and see the beautiful great city and the southern customs.

A couple of hours later, Sansa was ready to leave her home. She felt like crying but did her best to hide it. Outside the castle, the Stark family and the important people in Winterfell had assembled to say goodbye to her. As she stepped out of the castle one last time, she found herself already missing the hard winds and cold climate she had always hated. Suddenly everything in Winterfell felt appealing, and she regretted that she had never appreciated it more. The coach that would take her away, alongside the bannermen of The Dreadfort, were waiting for her. It was an impressive sight, but Sansa cared little for this. She had never found the sight of soldiers in line impressive as it only reminded her of stupid wars. She had always loved the man she had called father for always avoiding war and instead trying to talk his way out of trouble. He used his head before his sword, not the other way around, and in her opinion, that made him a great soldier.

"Goodbye, my child", Lady Cersei said to Sansa and kissed her forehead. She bowed down and let her mother kiss her without making her robes touch the muddy ground. She was wearing beautiful and delicate silk in blue colours to look her best for her new husband. It was not her choice, it was her mother's. Her mother looked her in the eye with a concerned expression. She tried to look unaffected, but she was unable to hide that losing Sansa was a great sorrow for her.

"Goodbye mother", Sansa responded, "please come visit me soon". She took her mother's hands and squeezed them. The feeling was mutual.

"I will. As soon as possible. And when I come, you will probably be a mother", she replied, and it sent shivers down Sansa's spine. First of all, she had expected her mother to visit sooner and secondly, she had not thought that she would have a child that soon. Sansa neither liked nor disliked children, but she was not ready to have some of her own. It made her think of Loras. She looked around, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Farewell, dear sister. Make him happy", Joffrey then stepped towards Sansa and said. He bent down to embrace her like a good brother, but his touch made her skin crawl. His skin was always cold as stone and his bones went almost right through his skin. It was like hugging an old, dying person. He looked at her with his narrow eyes without showing any emotion. Sansa quickly moved away. Myrcella was next in line and was clutching her doll. She was crying silently, and Sansa bent down in front of her to hug her.

"Don't cry, honey. I will visit you soon", Sansa tried to console her, but she kept sobbing.

"I will miss you so much", she cried, and Sansa wiped away her tears.

"I will miss you too, but take this", Sansa answered and took off her old necklace and put it in her sister's hand, "then I will always be with you". Myrcella opened up her eyes and stroked the necklace gently. Lord Ned had given it to Sansa for her 11th birthday, and she had kept it close to her heart ever since.

"Thank you", Myrcella said, more touched than ever before and then she handed Sansa her doll.

"Princess Pearl will keep you company", she said. Sansa did not want to take her precious doll, but a part of her wanted it for comfort. It was a little bit of home after all.

"Are you sure?", Sansa asked her. Myrcella had stopped sobbing and smiled bravely.

"Yes, I want you to have it, so that you will never forget me".

Hearing these words made Sansa's eyes water and she did not try to constrain herself. She hugged her little sister one last time and let the tears flow. She did not care if everybody was looking, because unlike Arya or Joffrey, Sansa did not consider crying or showing sensitive emotions a weakness. Arya and Joffrey were also the ones who looked the most uncomfortable this morning. Joffrey looked away, seemingly impatient to see Sansa and Roose leave to be able to continue his plans, and Arya just stared right ahead with an empty expression on her face. Sansa was aching to tell Arya that she really appreciated her efforts to make it possible for her to escape her marriage, but she had never found the right moment. Now it was too late and it was killing her as she walked towards Arya.

"Goodbye Arya", Sansa just said, trying to smile a comforting smile to her. Arya looked back at her with agony in her eyes. For a moment she said nothing, but then she spoke.

"Goodbye sister. Be careful. Promise me that", she said in a flat voice. She wanted no one to hear that she was feeling emotional on the inside.

"I will", Sansa said. For a moment, the two sisters just looked at each other expecting the other to do something. After a while, Arya opened her arms and pulled Sansa into her embrace to hug her. She had never done this before, and it made Sansa realize that her sister was not as unaffected by her leaving Winterfell as she had let her believe. It warmed her heart more than Myrcella's tears had done. They had not shared any tender sister-to-sister moments since before the devastating day that tore their relationship apart.

"If anything bad happens, I will come for you. Whatever it takes", Arya almost whispered as she held her sister tight. This time Sansa fought bravely to hide her tears.

"I know you will. I have always known it. I am so sorry for what happened that day. It was my fault, and it was my fault that you did what you did. I forgave you for it long ago", Sansa whispered quickly to speak her mind and heart. She needed to unburden her heart, and she needed to do it now before it was too late. She returned Arya's affection and squeezed her arms around her.

"Thank you. What happened back then has haunted me as much as it has haunted you. Let's let it go", Arya answered and let go of Sansa. Sansa was crying and Arya was close to tears. Sansa had never seen her sister so upset and tangled up in emotions before, and she realized that this was an important moment in the restoration of their relationship. It made Sansa regret not dealing with it before. Having a sister and friend to share her secrets and dreams with was something she had always been missing in her life, and now it was too late. But she did not believe that Arya would never come to visit. Her mother's promises might be empty, but Arya was a girl of her word.

Sansa nodded and felt Roose approaching her from the back. She smiled at Arya and wiped away the tears before turning around and facing her husband.

"My Lord", she said and made a curtsey before him. He looked at her and took her hand. He did not seem angry or happy, just a bit impatient, so Sansa hurried and entered the coach with the horses in front. It was nicely decorated with dark blue velvet, and the seat was soft. She sat down and looked out towards the castle where she grew up. It was no longer her home. The coach started moving and she waved to her family and the other citizens who had assembled to say goodbye to her. She watched each of her family members as the coach moved out of Winterfell. She was almost certain that she would never see Joffrey again, but she did not grieve for that. He left as soon as she and Roose had entered the coach. Myrcella was eagerly waving, and her mother waved in a restrained manner, while Arya was just standing there looking at her. She was wearing a dress now, but dresses had never fitted her. Armour suited her better, and Sansa really hoped Arya would figure out what to do. As far as she knew, life in Winterfell was over for Arya too. With Joffrey claiming the power, Arya would never be a part of anything important. Sansa couldn't stop hoping that she might decide to find her own path somewhere and to bring her along too.

Across from her, Roose was sitting, and watching him made Sansa wish even harder that this would come true. Or Arya could kill him? After last night, Sansa had realized that making her new husband angry was something she would like to avoid. But if she did do this by accident, she was sure he would hurt her a lot. She looked at him again. He had closed his eyes, looking like he was trying to sleep. Sansa contemplated the thought of trying to strangle him right now. Then she would be a free woman. She closed her eyes herself, knowing that her plan was stupid and impossible, and a tear from her eyes dropped again.

Sansa woke up suddenly, hearing voices and screams. She was all confused and looked outside. She could not believe what she saw: Everywhere were soldiers and horses fighting each other. The soldiers were stabbing each other and the blood was flowing freely, painting the ground red.

"Get down and stay here", Roose said to her, drawing his sword with his one hand and pushing her down towards the floor with the other. She obeyed and quickly he left. Her heart was racing and she tried to cover her ears with her hands. She was sure she was going to die. Whoever was trying to kill her husband would certainly kill her too. Or hurt her even worse. That made her realize that she could not stay there in the coach. She looked outside again; they were in the middle of nowhere with open fields around them. That meant nowhere to run. The screams outside got louder and the fighting came closer to her too. She did not know who was attacking them, but the golden robes led her to believe they were soldiers from King's Landing. The thought gave her chills, realizing that King Stannis was already informed of the alliance between Joffrey Stark and Roose Bolton.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a man opening up the door in the coach. He had a fierce and mad look on his face and he seemed surprised to find a woman. Instinctively, Sansa opened up the opposite door and stumbled out, falling to the ground. She fell down on top of a bloody corpse with both his arms cut off. He was one of the soldiers guarding her coach. His eyes were almost popped out of the sockets and he looked like a figure from her nightmares. It almost made her vomit, but there was no time. She tried to get up and run away, but the hopes in her heart sank. She knew she had little chances of getting away unharmed.

"Come on boys, a woman", the soldier screamed, and Sansa froze on the ground. It seemed to her that every hostile soldier looked at her.

"No", she said, barely loud enough for anybody to hear. Getting up on her feet, she saw that almost every dead soldier was wearing the Bolton guard's armour and clothing. Before starting to run away, she saw a man in a shiny golden cloak taking off his helmet and letting his dark hair out. He was standing in front of her husband, who was kneeling in front of the man. He was badly injured with an arrow through his chest.

"Do it, you coward", Roose screamed at the man, and in slow motion, Sansa witnessed how the man in the golden cloak beheaded her husband with a clean strike. Roose's body fell to the ground shortly after his head, bleeding out all over the executioner's boots. Then everybody turned towards Sansa.

"No", she whispered again, trying to run away. The shock of seeing the carnage had made her legs weak, and she kept stumbling in the slippery blood and over the chopped off body parts. Quickly, the soldiers caught up with her and they pushed her onto the ground and turned her around. She was struggling, but her resistance was in vain; she was well aware of that. She knew what would come next.

All the soldiers were laughing and shouting from the rush of the battle, behaving like wild animals.

"Should we bring her home or enjoy her here?", one of the soldiers asked, while two other held her down by the arms and legs. She cried and begged for her life.

"No prisoners. Take the bitch here", another soldier responded and knelt down to put his hands on her breasts.

"Your crying won't help you", he said and almost caressed her face, wiping away the blood from the battlefield. He had an evil look on his face with dark, curly hair reaching down towards his deep set eyes. He was butch and big, and she knew she had no chance of fighting him. His friends kept holding down her arms and legs and he placed himself between her legs. The dress was soiled but it still covered her up. He grabbed the skirt and ripped it apart which made the soldiers cheer. There were at least seven of them, and Sansa knew that they would all want their turn. A desolate life as Roose Bolton's wife was something she would kill for right now. Her crying stopped and she got ready for the pain and torture that was about to come. She made her peace with it and hoped for a quick death. She knew they would show her no such mercy.

The big guy laughed as he put his dirty hands on her inner thighs and squeezed them hard.

"I bet she was a virgin last night", he laughed and ripped apart her underwear and the rest of the dress. Every time he spoke, the soldiers laughed and cheered, and as they watched her exposed and naked body, the cheering got louder. He pulled down his pants while pressing his hand against her womanhood in a rough manner.

"Get away from her", someone suddenly yelled. Sansa opened up her eyes and a tiny hope grew inside her heart. The soldier moved away from her.

"Of course, my lord. She is all yours", he said, pulled up his pants. The other soldiers lined up next to him. The words broke Sansa's hope again. She had hoped this person would take pity on her, but that did not appear to be the case.

"She is a noble lady and she will be brought to King's Landing unharmed", the voice then said, and he stepped forward so Sansa was able to see him. She pulled the dress back down, trying to cover herself up, and looked at him: It was the man who had killed Roose. He was wearing golden armour under his golden cloak. He was not that tall, only a little taller than she, but he had a handsome face. His hair was dark and thick, but shorter than most men's, and his eyes were dark and deep. He was paler than most people from the south, but his dark features made it clear that he was from King's Landing. No doubt he was an important man.

"My Lady, I am deeply sorry for your loss and for the way my men treated you. They will all be punished for their actions", he then said and knelt down beside her. The soldiers started to complain, but when he faced them with his sword drawn, they all went quiet. Then he focused on her again.

"Are you hurt?", he then asked, almost caringly.

"No, I am okay, I think", she replied and felt uncomfortable in the torn dress. He could sense it and took off his golden cloak and put it around her.

"We are not after Lady Bolton. It was your husband we needed", he then said. Finally someone was nice to her, so she did not argue.

"Let's get back to King's Landing", he then yelled to his soldiers. "Get the bodies and Bolton's head". Sansa did not say anything and fell into some sort of shock. Her saviour put his arms under her legs and arms and lifted her up. Then he carried her through the battlefield, and the sight of the blood, body parts and organs made her pass out.


End file.
